Brotherhood
by littlelindentree
Summary: Tim’s favourite game when he was 10 years old was an elaborate pretending game. Pre-series.


A/N: This takes place pre-series. It was written for Cliche Bingo on LJ for the "domestic bliss" prompt.

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Tim's favourite game when he was 10 years old was an elaborate pretending game, where he would lie awake on the air mattress on Jason's bedroom floor, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark planets and starts on the ceiling, and pretend that this was the room he shared with Jason, his brother.

He spent a lot of time at the Streets' in those days, the months after his parents left. He remembered that summer very clearly; it was the summer Billy showed him how to throw a spiral, and their dad bought them that inflatable pool from the hardware store. Billy was too old for things like that by then, but Tim played in it for hours on the front lawn, drinking from the hose and seeing how long he could hold his breath under water. The day their mother left, she waved at Tim and Billy from the Le Baron as she drove away, calling out the window that she was just going to the grocery store. Tim told Billy he hoped that she'd bring some ice cream home for them, but she never came back at all. After that, it was just the three of them for a while, and then Billy and Dad started fighting all the time and Billy moved out, and one day Tim woke up to an empty house, and had to walk the four miles to Billy's girlfriend's place to bring him back.

Tim started going over to Jason's house more and more because Billy was trying to get his GED and was working all the time, and sometimes Tim grew tired of having cereal for dinner every night, alone. The Streets were so nice, Jason and his parents, that it was easy to pretend that he was the fourth member of their family. They would eat together at the kitchen table and laugh at things that had happened that day, and after dinner Tim and Jason and Jason's dad would go toss a football around in the backyard while Jason's mom washed the dishes and sang along quietly to country songs on the radio. Later, Jason and Tim would brush their teeth and grin at each other in the bathroom mirror, and both Jason's parents would tuck them into bed, his mother dropping a kiss on each of the boys' heads.

Just like a real family.

One night around dinnertime he rode his bike over to Jason's house. Billy had had to work late at the liquor store, and there was no food in the house. There were a couple of unfamiliar cars in Jason's driveway, but Tim shrugged and threw his bike down on the lawn as usual. When he knocked on the door, Jason's mother answered.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. Jason can't come out and play – we've got company. It's sort of a family thing," she opined, her face softening as she looked at him. "I'm sure we could make room for you at the table, though, if you want to stay."

Tim stood there in the glare of the porch light, embarrassed. The Streets were having a_ family thing_, which meant he didn't belong. He had to go home to his own family.

"Oh, honey," Mrs. Street said, and suddenly she was bending down and pulling him into a warm, gentle hug. Tim stood frozen for a moment, his arms at his sides, before he realised what was happening and hugged her back. It had been forever since anyone had hugged him. He thought of his mother's rare hugs; her arms painfully tight around him and her hair smelling of baby powder and menthol.

Politely refusing Mrs. Street's offer of a plate of food to take home for him and Billy, Tim rode home on his bike. When he got there, Billy's car was back in the driveway.

"Hey," Billy greeted him from the couch, where he was stretched out, a beer in hand. "Where were you?"

"Jay's," Tim mumbled.

"Oh. You get something to eat?" Billy asked, sitting up.

Tim shook his head.

"Oh, good. I got chicken for dinner," Billy said, standing up and walking into the kitchen.

Tim wandered over, frowning at the spread of food. Billy had gone all out – the bucket of fried chicken was accompanied by all the fixings, and a case of beer sat on the counter.

"You like the potato salad, right?" Billy asked, piling food onto a plate for Tim.

"Yeah," Tim replied, leaning on the counter. "How come you got all this?"

"Dunno," Billy shrugged. "Just thought it might be nice to have a real dinner for once, you and me."

"Thanks," Tim said, taking the food Billy passed him and watching his older brother carefully.

"No problem, little brother," Billy said, grabbing another beer as he made his way back to the couch. He sat up this time, and gestured at the space next to him. "Wanna watch SportsCenter?"

Tim didn't reply. He just made his way over, and sat down next to Billy on the couch.


End file.
